Sometimes I’ll wake up on a Sunday to some weird text from SG and I’m glad our friendship has gotten to that place. But he needs a new line already. (It was never effective to begin with.)



Make a run for it

Pup just got some incredible life/career-related news and I am the most excited ever for him. I’m waiting in an airport right now barely able to hold it together – I can’t wait to see him. I’m so proud.

However, this news means we’re probably moving to a new state. There’s the side of this that makes me a little anxious. Over the last four years in this city, I made a life. I lived alone for the first time. I fell in love with a place and with a person. I formed a circle of friends. I graduated from grad school and started a job I like (but am also kind of prepared to move on from and go into the next phase.) I made meaningful connections with partners.

So there’s the part of me that wonders if I’m willing to leave it behind and start again. And there’s the part of me – that is yelling louder, that feels right – that it’s time to start this new chapter of our lives together. It’ll push me to ask for more in my career than be complacent with my current situation. I can decide with my partners what feels worthwhile to keep going from (not all that) afar. (It is not as big of a move as it was from where I went to college to this city, not by a long-shot.) I never wanted to put down roots here. And I am young still and more in love with Pup than I am with this city.

And maybe, secretly, a little ready to move on.

We’ll see.


I think there’s no better way to explain myself to you all than the fact that I’m traveling for work and immediately upon arriving to my accommodations I took my skirt and shoes off and now I’m just wandering around here in my stockings and sweater like too lazy to commit to taking the rest of my clothes off.



Synecdoche, New York (2008) dir. Charlie Kaufman

The Firsts, Part One

We were sitting on an air mattress at a friend’s. It was arranged in a rough circle with a couch and a few armchairs around a coffee table. On the table sat the cards. I’d played with them once before, at another one of these parties, and the results were pretty damn interesting. Despite my previous success, I was nervous.

Compared to last time, this was a rather small crowd. There were nine of us in the room, and it was Pup, Leo and I on the mattress. I was wearing a tight, long-sleeved crop-top and a short velvet skirt. Because, y’know, velvet is my power fabric.

The game thus far had been pretty tame. People were drawing milder cards. It was all swapping of sexy stories, cuddling, kissing. There had been one tiny awkward snag for me when I first arrived and a guy asked:

“So, you’re Ivy, then? Not Ivory.”

“No,” I replied, furrowing my brow. “My name’s not Ivory.”

“Well, uh.” He gestured to a pretty girl talking to the hostess. “Her name is Ivory.”

(This is my attempted translation of this name thing from my real name to the name I use to write this blog. But, yeah, there was a girl there who basically had my name. But like, one letter different. It was a thing.)

Anyway, Pup decided to be a little daring and drew a card from one of the braver piles. It was something along the lines of biting a volunteer on the spot of your choice. He had been away a few days for a work trip, and had returned that afternoon. I’d missed him, I was craving him, so I raised my hand.

He slid in front of me on the air mattress and pushed my top down one of my shoulders. “Shame you’re working on Monday,” he said. His lips brushed over my neck and settled right beside my shoulder. He bit down and I tilted my head, lowering my lips to his neck to kiss it. 

I wanted him. So goddamn badly.

So I laid back on the mattress, but Pup just pulled back and stood. He grinned down at me before taking a seat again.


Oh my gosh. Absolutely.


I haven’t been in a harness in forever.